


The Darkness In Between

by DizzyDrea



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Gen, Introspection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-02
Updated: 2020-03-02
Packaged: 2021-02-27 23:15:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,133
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22983892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DizzyDrea/pseuds/DizzyDrea
Summary: Last time he'd lost so much, he'd just woken up from being frozen for sixty years. Everyone he'd ever known was either old or dead. He'd been so angry that he'd been alive that he'd murdered hundreds of punching bags trying to burn out the anger.Now, he was killing running shoes.
Kudos: 4





	The Darkness In Between

**Author's Note:**

> Somehow, I managed to write another gen fic. No idea how this keeps happening. Takes place between _Infinity War_ and _Endgame_. 
> 
> Disclaimer: Captain America and The Avengers and all their particulars are the property of Marvel Studios, Walt Disney Studios, and a lot of other people who aren't me. I am doing this for fun and for practice. Mostly for fun.

~o~

Steve Rogers listened to the rhythmic _slap slap slap_ of his shoes on the pavement as he ran. It was soothing, in its way. Almost hypnotic. 

Out here, with only the blue sky above him and the black pavement beneath him, he was isolated. He could almost forget what was going on in the rest of the world. The pain and despair, the anger, the stealing and fighting. Trouble was, eventually his memory would reassert itself and he'd start to remember all the people he'd lost.

Again.

Last time he'd lost so much, he'd just woken up from being frozen for sixty years. Everyone he'd ever known was either old or dead. He'd been so angry that he'd been alive that he'd murdered hundreds of punching bags trying to burn out the anger.

Now, he was killing running shoes.

Strictly speaking, he didn't need to run. His body maintained peak fitness with very little effort. A side effect of the serum, Doctor Erskine had told him. He found that training kept him sharp and refined his muscle memory, but he'd been able to run after the Nazi agent in the moments after he'd emerged from the chamber, several miles from where Project Rebirth was being housed, without even breaking a sweat.

Still, he liked running. He hadn't liked it at all when he was young, because his asthma made it difficult to breath when he was sitting still, so running had been out of the question. But running was peaceful in a way that no other activity was.

Unfortunately, running also gave him time to think. And the thing top of mind these days was running on a constant loop in his head: all the people he'd lost to The Decimation.

In the days and weeks after The Snap, Steve had stayed at Avengers Tower, along with what remained of the team. He'd tried running through the streets, but they were so empty. A city that never slept, was always lit bright as daylight and moved with an energy and purpose that provided a constant hum in the background suddenly seemed as silent as the grave.

It just exacerbated his sense of loss, so Steve had just… stopped. Stopped running in the city, stopped going outside, stopped thinking about it.

That had lasted for all of three days. He couldn't not be active; he just didn't have it in him to be sedentary, no matter that the serum made exercise unnecessary. So, he'd found things to do. He'd started searching the streets for people who needed help. Had gone to volunteer at the hospitals in Manhattan. Had even done a little crime-fighting.

He thought Tony might have found that entertaining.

Thoughts of Tony Stark sobered him. He missed the man like a phantom limb. Even though they hadn't spoken in years before the final battle against Thanos, he still liked and respected Tony. He couldn't blame the man, really, for wanting revenge for his parents' deaths, even if that revenge would have killed one of Steve's best friends.

"Gee, thanks, Stevie."

He glanced to his right. Bucky Barnes was jogging along beside him, all short-haired and fresh-faced as the day he'd left for Europe before the war. Steve knew he was hallucinating, but he couldn't seem to find it in him to care.

"You know I'd go to the wall for you, Buck," he said. "To the end of the line."

"You shoulda just let Stark do what he needed to," Bucky said.

"I couldn't let go of you," Steve said, shaking his head. "You know that. I'd already lost so much."

"And you lost even more when Thanos snapped his fingers."

"Still wouldn’t have made me betray my oldest friend," Steve said. He looked to his left to see Sam Wilson keeping pace, the man's words ringing in his ears.

"Maybe if you'd sided with Stark, you'd have been more prepared when Thanos came calling," Bucky said.

"Not sure how we could have known," Steve said. 

They'd been woefully unprepared the day that Thanos had arrived. Maybe if they'd had some warning, they'd have been able to fight back. 

"Exactly the point," Sam said. "We had no idea what was out there, and no amount of preparation would have made a difference."

"Thor was supposed to be out there figuring out what was going on," Steve said.

"Yeah, well, he had his own problems," Sam said. "That rat bastard of a brother of his, for one."

"Loki was just as much a pawn in this whole thing as we were, in the end," Steve said. "I just hate that there really wasn't anything we could do. It felt like Thanos was holding all the cards and we were just…"

"Pissing into the wind?" Bucky asked.

Steve chuckled as he slowed down. His two shadows faded into the morning mist as he took a deep breath. He knew it wasn't exactly healthy to hallucinate people he'd lost, but he just couldn't let go of their memories. And they really only came to him when he let his mind wander, like when he was running. 

He bent over and closed his eyes, allowing his senses to spread out as he listened to the utter silence. He'd taken to running at the Avengers Compound because it was less heartbreaking than running through the empty streets of New York City. But on days like today, when he was feeling the heartache down to his bones, nothing helped.

He straightened up and took another deep breath, trying to let go of all the sadness and hurt as he exhaled. It didn't always help, but he tried it anyway. He had a grief recovery group that night, so it was best to work through as much of his own pain as he could before he tried to help others do the same.

Some days it worked, and some days it didn't. Today was probably going to be one of those days that nothing helped, but that had never stopped him before. 

This time, even with all the loss, he knew better ways of coping than punching the hell out of a punching bag. He wished he didn't, but that seemed to be the life he was destined to lead. The serum would have allowed him to outlive all his friends anyway, but this loss was just so much harder to fathom, and he woke up every day hoping it was all just a nightmare.

That had never worked, but he just kept hoping that, one day, he could wake up in a world were none of his friends were dead and where they all got to live happily ever after.

Steve snorted. Like that was ever going to happen.

Still… he hoped one day it would. 

~Finis


End file.
